Confessions of a Dragon
by Natural.Logarithm
Summary: Draco gets cornered by our favorite reporter, Rita Skeeter, and says somethings he probably doesn't realize he's saying.


Okay, this is getting down right annoying. As you know, it is quite unlike me to get flustered over anything. Especially something as completely moronic as this. I hate it when I get flustered. I get all pink and warm in the face.

Right, back to the point. Annoyment. Flusterment.

I don't know where these rumors are coming from, but _somehow_ it got around that I, Draco Malfoy, have the freaking hots for Harry Bloody Potter!

HARRY POTTER! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW BLOODY SICK THAT IS!

Apparently not.

Let me break it down for you.

I am a pureblood. As in my blood is pure. As in uncontaminated.

Now, we're going to ignore for the moment that Potter is male. I'll get to that later.

I'll tell you why we're ignoring it right now. Because I say we're ignoring it.

Stop snickering.

Potter's father was pure, I'll give him that much. His mother, on the other hand, was a Mudblood; and by being a Mudblood, she is no better than a Muggle, therefore ruining Potter's blood. As he is half-blood, there is no way in hell I could ever find myself being…intimate with him.

That is point one of why I hate Potter and bloody well could never fall for him. There are ten points. At least.

Point two. His hair. How dare he have his hair like that! "Oh, look at me, I'm Potter, my hair's messy all the time so it looks like I've just had sex with someone! Ooh!" At least I look groomed, even when I have had sex with someone. Like a girl. Lots of girls, in fact. Many girls, at one time. And I still come out looking like I've just brushed my hair. It's all in the products. Some people just have no respect for such things.

What? Oh, the sex comment? Well, you have to admit, it does look like someone grabbed on to his head and—

Never mind.

Where was I? Oh, yes. Point three. Those dumb eyes. Have you ever seen his freaking eyes? They're huge! I'm not sure if it's those glasses, or his actual eyes, but holy crap! And what an ugly shade of green. I mean, it's so freaking bright! Who on earth would actually want eyes like that? Eyes that show such emotion.

Again? Look, when a pair of eyes has shown you hatred for so many years, and you've shown it to them right back, you just kind of assume other emotions are shown through them as well. Can I continue?

Thank you.

Point four. The scar. For some reason, everyone glorifies the fact that he got a bloody cut on his head when he was just a little brat(rather than the large brat he is today), and it scarred. Okay, I understand the cut was the Dark Lord's doing, and that because of it, he has some sort of connection to the Dark Lord's mind, blah blah blah. Not the point. It's an ugly scar. It's on his face. Consequently, I get to make fun of it.

No questions this time?

Good.

Now, point five. The friends. WHAT THE HELL IS UP WITH POTTER AND HAVING THESE LOSER CRAPPY FRIENDS! At least Weasley's a pureblood. Barely. But Granger! That mousy know-it-all Mudblood! Damn it, I feel traitorous saying this, but Potter can do better. He had the chance to do better! I offered my friendship! _My _friendship! What the hell! I mean, I'm not such a bad guy. I like bunnies, and fields of flowers, and butterflies…

Who am I kidding? I'm a Malfoy. I like fire, and pointy objects, and maiming bunnies to make new slippers.

No, I'm not jealous of those two! What did I just say? I'm a Malfoy! I could have anything I wanted! I just didn't want him bad enough to fight for him.

What? What are you giggling about? My word choice? What on earth do you mean?

Never mind. Just shut up and listen.

Point six. His butt.

Yes, I've looked! You make it sound like it's unexpected.

Now, the point behind this is that he really doesn't have one. And that pisses me off. I don't know why, but the fact that his butt is non-existent annoys the hell out of me. He has girls swooning over the very ground he's walked on, and yet, he has no ass!

Look at mine! Look at it! It's perfect! Perfect in every way. Touch it. Go ahead, it won't bite.

See! It's wonderful! And yet, it's Potter that they go for.

Though, I must say, when he gets out of those robes and in to a nice pair of jeans, there is something there. I'm thinking that the jeans are padded. You know, like how Muggle girls buy those padded bras. He must have caught on to the fact that he will never have an ass as great as mine and sewed padding in to his jeans. It's the only thing that makes sense.

That was a great sewing job though. Makes it look quite squeezable.

Oh, come on. Just because I look at Potter's butt does not mean I'm gay.

You know what, screw the other two points, I'm heading right in to the last one, oh 'I'm-going-to-question-Malfoy's-manliness-because-I'm-a-big-stupidhead.'

Shut up.

No, you shut up.

Don't make me hit you.

Point ten. He's a man. I want to make one thing very, very clear to you. Draco Malfoy like boobs. Boobs, boobs, boobs, boobs, boobs. I like to look at them, and touch them, and poke them, because they jiggle when you do that. I like them so much that there is not another man out there that likes them more than me. And nothing, not you, not even Potter's shapely ass, can talk me out of liking them.

No, I didn't just say Potter had a shapely ass!

What?

WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU'VE BEEN WRITING THIS WHOLE CONVERSATION DOWN! HOW!

_A QUICK-QUOTES QUILL!_

Let me see that.

Oh, shit. I did say that.

Holy crap.

I like looking at Potter's ass.

Listen here, you. I swear to all the gods that if this ever gets out, I will hunt you down and maim you in such a way, you'll wish that your mother hadn't gotten drunk that one time and forgotten a condom. I will shove my foot so far up your ass that you can taste it. I will rip out your eyeballs so you can watch your own beating. I will cover you with honey and hang you over a pit of fire ants. I will tie you down and cut you with a rusty razor blade, then soak your wounds a mix of vinegar and salt water, then rinse them out and soak them again, until I get bored with that part of your body and move on to another. Then, maybe, I'll kill you.

Got it?

Good.

Now get out of my sight.

Oh, shit.


End file.
